


THAT STEAK SANDWICH

by poochooey, spicyshimmy



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-20
Updated: 2012-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poochooey/pseuds/poochooey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyshimmy/pseuds/spicyshimmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written as a fill on the Mass Effect Kinkmeme. OP asked for Kaidan and Shepard's first time after their date. Smut and introspection and lots of Kaidan's feelings. <i>Kaidan gets his steak sandwich, but he doesn't get his Canadian lager. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	THAT STEAK SANDWICH

Kaidan gets his steak sandwich, but he doesn't get his Canadian lager. 

'Can't expect them to have _everything_ ,' Shepard says, and Kaidan can't tell if he winks or if it's something else, an eye-twitch from too many blows to the head. 

He hands his credit chit to the waiter and says, 'The Alliance owes me-- _us_ \--a gift for all we've been through.'

When he stands he gets close to Kaidan, and that's the first time Kaidan realizes that, of all people in the world, he's taller than Commander Shepard. 

He wants to joke about it, but all he can do is breathe. Shepard's implants are glowing red, three small dots around the iris. It's damn unsettling, to say the least. 

'Shepard,' he says, and the rest of it sticks in his throat when Shepard takes his arm, squeezing it for a split second before letting go. It's heat as sharp as incineration, cold as a snap-freeze. 

'Don't worry,' Shepard replies, 'we'll get you your lager. Come on.' 

But Kaidan _wasn't_ worried. 

Not exactly. 

Shepard isn't worried either; of course not. He's faced down worse in his time than listening to Kaidan talk about his childhood, about Vancouver, about all the little things he wants somebody--and not just anybody--to know. It seems important somehow, especially now. 

So long as it doesn't seem desperate, Kaidan thinks.

As for what Shepard's thinking--nobody knows. Maybe not even Shepard.

Kaidan watches the back of his head for a while, his shoulders beneath the leather of his N7 jacket, more casual than regulation but also more regulation than casual. He watches when Shepard doesn't reach to flick the collar up—it’s up already--as they pass one of the too-many-to-count war memorials along their way. 

The Salarian gives them a discount on the lager. Shepard tries his best not to take it. And Kaidan watches him lean against the counter while the whole thing goes down. 

'Showing off, is that it?' he asks. 

'I've gotta impress,' Shepard replies. 'After all--it is the first date.' 

He hands Kaidan a bottle and takes one for himself, but doesn't open it. Kaidan feels his bottle sweating between his palms, joining his armpits and the small of his back, but the bottle's cold instead of hot.

Shepard leans over the railing to look over the lower levels, then up to look at the glass ceiling. 

'What's up?' Kaidan asks him, putting his elbows on the railing, too. 

'Just wishing we had a balcony and a bay,' Shepard replies. 'Think we should get back to the Normandy?'

‘Why not?’ Kaidan says. 

He swallows when the elevator doors shut behind them, the bottle still in his fist. Shepard leans his against his chin, the stubble there scraping the label, and he looks up at the elevator lights. 

Kaidan looks down, because they make his head hurt. 

'You know,' Shepard says in the airlock, small and dark and in between two places, the way Shepard gets on the field. But he shines instead, Kaidan thinks.

'Yeah?' he says. 

Shepard's closer than he was when they first stood up, close enough to where Kaidan can see the freckles on his neck. The thin scars on his cheek glow in the dimness. 'I'm sure I've got some vids of English Bay in my cabin.’ 

'Great.' Kaidan chuckles, a sound as beat up as the bottle, streaked with his fingerprints. It's that cloudy. It's imported, too, from another place, practically another time, definitely another person's memories. 'It'll be just like the real thing.' 

Shepard lifts his bottle like a premature toast. 'No kidding. I'll drink to that.' 

He's relaxed, Kaidan thinks; he looks relaxed. And maybe that's not as natural as when he's got an M-99 Saber in hand--not necessarily a flaw, just something to notice. Something to remember. Something to take with them, wherever they end up. 

Dark airlock wanting to kiss a guy so bad it hurts worse than the headaches--or too much open space, nothing between them and no gravity and all the stars. 

But at least they're not in the Mako. Sometimes, Kaidan wants to say, he thinks that if they pulled through that, they can get through anything. 

It's the end of days. They have to joke about something. 

Just maybe not the Mako. 

'You asking me back to your cabin, Shepard?' Kaidan asks into the silence. He gets it. And when he talks, his lips are practically touching Shepard's cheek--that's how close they are. 

Shepard makes a noise like a huff. Kaidan feels it gusting over his face, and after that he feels Shepard's lips press against his cheekbone. It's light but enough to be on purpose, enough that Kaidan feels the stubble on his jaw this time. 

'Maybe.' Shepard’s voice rumbles in his chest, in Kaidan's chest. 'Depends. What do you think, _Spectre_?'

'Don't call me that,' Kaidan says, then chuckles. His voice feels just as dry as it always does. 

The airlock is cold and the wall is cold, but Kaidan only feels goosebumps all over his arms when Shepard's knuckles graze his and he kisses Kaidan's mouth, his boots scraping against the floor. 

It's something so much more than looks thrown across bright orange screens and looks thrown across dark locker rooms, the first time Kaidan told him about his headaches. 

Shepard pulls back and Kaidan leans forward, his mind slower than his body, adrenaline like medigel. Their lips catch and Kaidan feels like he's going to drop the bottle; Shepard just tilts his head and breathes through his nose.

'Yeah,' Kaidan manages to mumble. 'I'd really like that.' 

And, like it's that simple after all these years, Shepard says, 'Me, too.' 

There are plenty of people who kiss like they're dying, especially now, holding each other wherever, whenever they can. It might not last beyond survival and instinct, as though it's never been about love after all, but Kaidan doesn't buy that. He wouldn't buy it even if a Salarian tried to sell it to him half-price for being a hero to the whole human race; he'd bargain it right back up again, same as Shepard. 

Kaidan gets his fingers between the thin leather of Shepard's jacket and his t-shirt, against body heat through the fabric from the skin, thumbing his side above his hip. It's a small thing, but he can feel Shepard shivering. 

Their bodies are capable of so much even in cold, cold space--which you wouldn't think of with all the burning they do, all the burning the stars do, but there it is. It's cold out there, especially when you're alone.

Hell, when you look at it that way, everybody's a supernova. 

'Credit for your thoughts, Kaidan,' Shepard says, but he doesn't wait for an answer. 

And Kaidan kisses him before his own name's off Shepard's lips. 

'Come on,' Shepard says, for the second time that night. Kaidan squeezes his side like Shepard squeezed his arm, stepping out onto the Normandy together, Shepard moving backwards. 

It’s better this time because this time Shepard's pressed flush against Kaidan's chest. There's another kiss, a short one, and Shepard says, 'Damn.' 

'What is it?' Kaidan asks.

Shepard doesn't answer, because they're at his cabin and the doors are sliding open. It's much... _bigger_ than the SR1, to say the least, but Kaidan already expected that. 

'Those vids,' Kaidan adds. 

Shepard chuckles this time, sitting down on his couch and popping off the cap of his lager. 

'Don't worry,' he says, even though Kaidan isn't worried. He takes Kaidan's bottle from him and pops the cap off that one, too, setting it down on the table before swigging his own. 'I like it,' he says afterwards.

Kaidan thinks he might be lying.

It doesn't matter. Shepard shrugs off his jacket and his hand reaches for Kaidan's waist, pulling him closer again. 

There's this spot, this one spot, where they bump together side to side--and it's not like they haven't done that before, mostly with armor between them. It's just that Kaidan can't remember a time when it's been this simple but also this complicated, Shepard smelling like Canadian beer, which Kaidan's _pretty_ sure he explained--in his own way-- _also_ smells like home. 

Whatever's left of it. 

This time, they don't shift out of each other's orbit. It's not a mistake. It's a calculated crash landing.

Kaidan ducks his head, enough time for a chuckle, enough time for Shepard to do the same, something quiet and something that doesn't go anywhere. Shepard's arm goes around Kaidan's waist, bottle in one hand and Kaidan's thigh beneath the other. Kaidan watches Shepard's fingers, his thumb as it rubs toward the inseam. 

That's when Kaidan drinks--not enough to make his stomach any less tight, or his chest. 

He doesn't even know why. 

It's the stuff they cling to. _Whatever gets you through the night_ , right? Not exactly the terms Commander Shepard works with on the regular, but the human race isn't just about hope. It's about the other words they use when it's too hard to say the real thing. 

'Glad you like it,' Kaidan says. 'It's a... You know. It's an acquired taste.'

'Hey,' Shepard says. 

'Hey,' Kaidan replies. 

'You're looking good tonight, Major,' Shepard says, his thumb pressing downwards, leaning closer. Their noses touch and Kaidan puts his hands on either side of Shepard's neck. 

There are plenty of people who kiss like they're dying, and right now Kaidan feels like one of them, tasting beer, tasting something minty, tasting ash. Shepard bends forward and Kaidan bends the other way, Shepard's hand sliding up his back to support him while he kisses Kaidan's throat, then the hotter skin under his collar.

'So are you,' Kaidan breathes, while Shepard chuckles gruffly against his shirt.

'Sure,' he says, and nips at the dip in his collarbone before sitting back to take a pull from his bottle. Kaidan looks down and they're much closer than a series of bumps, their legs almost tangled together. Shepard stretches and scratches the back of his neck, then relaxes, head tipping back on the wall. 

It's been a long time since Kaidan met Commander Shepard, and it's been a long time he's done something like this. He never imagined he'd end up combining the two, not so fast, but also not _too_ fast if they've both been waiting so long.

It's something as important as Shepard's arm around him now and his arm under him on the field, where his scars started showing through the skin again. _That_ was a surprise--at least, it was on Horizon.

But there's not much conversation left for them right now; Kaidan wouldn’t be able to discuss what they had to eat for dinner, not even if he tried. The lights in Shepard's room are dim and blue and they don't hurt his eyes like the sharp lights in Engineering. He wonders distantly if Shepard planned that, but that information is so off and they've been through so much already that it shouldn't matter. 

They're soldiers, shutting emotions out for the sake of clarity. Kaidan's never been able to get that right. 

Then again--neither has Shepard. 

No matter the rumors, he's still a guy underneath his armor, next to his decisions. He'll stand by them, of course, but he's more than that, something that breathes through its bruises. He isn't all muscle. 

Literally not. Getting his wings clipped, staying grounded, _did_ make him heavier. So has age. 

But--and this doesn't escape Kaidan's notice, because lately it feels like he's always watching--it's tightening up again. At least _one_ of them hasn't stopped moving since Mars. And Shepard hits the ground running no matter what he _is_ made of, a tight tuck and roll that isn't always appropriate to every situation, especially not the delicate ones. 

Still, he's not somebody who ever stops, and Kaidan doesn't want to be the first time to prove the rule.

He doesn't think he is. 

'Hey,' Kaidan says, only it's not actually a word; when Shepard untucks his shirt and starts rolling it up Kaidan does the same. They've always worked well together, taking their cues. It's almost a relief when this is no different, rough knuckles on skin. 'Sparring with Vega again?' Kaidan asks against the corner of Shepard's mouth.

'James calls it dancing,' Shepard says. 

'...This something I should be worried about?' Kaidan asks. 

Shepard laughs. 'With _James_?'

'Hey,' Kaidan says. 'I'm just making sure, Shepard.'

'We can dance if you want,' Shepard says, shaking his hand free of his shirt. Kaidan's hands still on his own chest when Shepard straightens and places an ankle over his. 

'I've seen you dance,' Kaidan replies, getting his own shirt off his head. Then, he stops and stares.

It's everything; the scars and the freckles and the bruises fading on the skin, in person. Shepard's seen Kaidan at his worst, held whole conversations staring at his face when Kaidan could barely stand to look at himself.

Still, Shepard always looked like he wasn't in a hurry. He would stay until there was nothing to talk about--nothing that they _could_ talk about, nothing left to _say_. 

Shepard raises an eyebrow and Kaidan swears he flexes the muscles on his torso before he runs his hands over Kaidan's shoulders.

'You feel tense, Kaidan.' Shepard’s thumbs knead where Kaidan's thumbs can't reach. 'I can fix that.'

_Of course_ , Kaidan thinks. _You're Commander Shepard. And the way I hear it, you can fix everything._

There's grudging respect in that, some not-so-grudging respect--and beneath it, just one more layer, the knowledge that it isn't _really_ true. It's impossible for Kaidan to see the man this close and not buy into the hype about the legend; it's impossible for Kaidan to make himself believe everything he's seen in the first place. But at the same time, it's not just holo-screens and news-reels and war footage, even the classified stuff. 

It's a person, warm and punch-drunk, talking about dancing, talking about _massages_ , all the stuff you hear in classic vids with a nod to what's real and a sense for what's rote. 

Of all the people to play things by the book--considering some or most of the stunts Shepard's pulled in his time--Kaidan never thought it'd be him.

It is. It's _them_. He's tried to be honest, to live each day like it's the last because that's going to be true sooner rather than later, until eventually he runs out of all the things he hasn't said and comes to the things he hasn't _done_.

Shepard's there, between his legs on the couch. The view from this place is fantastic when you know where to look, all the planets they've saved out there somewhere--and all the planets they haven't. Whole galaxies, stars so big earth's only sun's no brighter than biotic glow, mass relays that trick a soldier into thinking the distance isn't that great, that _space_ isn't any bigger than two bodies. 

The truth is, sometimes, two bodies feel bigger than all that space. 

'You're thinking too much, Alenko,' Shepard says. 'Might explain the headaches.' He kisses him right there, at the temple where everything usually hurts, and it's not the same as what comes after, _roll over_.

'That an order, Commander?' Kaidan asks.

Shepard tells him he's starting to sound like James. 

‘Huh,’ Kaidan relpies.

Shepard’s hands are warm and dry. His knuckles massage the muscle at Kaidan's shoulders and that feels pretty good, pretty damn good. This whole thing feels pretty damn good, right up to the point where Shepard leans close and his crotch touches Kaidan's ass, and Kaidan pushes back up. 

'Hey,' Shepard says, and this time it's a puff of hot air into Kaidan's ear, and it's lower than ever. 'That's distracting.'

'Sorry, _Commander_ ,' Kaidan says. Shepard chuckles and kneads his back, but he doesn't move away.

Kaidan puts his cheek on the seat of the couch. It's smooth leather that still sticks to his skin, and his chest, now, and he feels like he couldn't move if he tried. But moving is also about wanting, and it would take something short of a Reaper attack to get him to walk away right now. 

He closes his eyes and Shepard says, ' _Relax_ , Major.' 

But Kaidan's never been able to do that, not fully. And it's not like Shepard has any right to tell _him_ to relax with all the stress lines on _his_ face, the wrinkles between his brows. 

They're older than they were, older than they've ever been, and there's silver in both their hair. 

'Relax,' Shepard says again, softer this time. His forehead touches the small of Kaidan's back and he kisses somewhere lower, his fingers dropping to his belt.

It happens pretty quickly after that, Shepard's fingers undoing the catch, that metal _clink_ that's muffled by fabric and Kaidan's body and the couch's stiff upholstery, and over that, the sound of the aquarium VI bubbling in the tank. _Romantic_ , Kaidan has the time to think, but then, so's the rest of it, the stars on one side and the coral on the other, and all the little things that remind Kaidan of home. Now all they need is the steak. 

If they ever get the time.

Shepard palms his way between Kaidan's thighs, between the open sides of the belt, under the fly that Kaidan's used to undoing himself--like after that one time he spent an hour on an email to the guy and frustration, not headaches, made his hands shake. He touched himself then Shepard touches himself now, the difference clear, the distance totally obliterated, and the burning wreckage is just his body this time. No big deal.

'You OK there?' Shepard asks, but it's awkward, like he was about to say _Major_ , like he was about to say _Alenko_ , mostly like he was about to say _Kaidan_. Kaidan can almost hear it; he almost wants it as bad as the hand on him, thumb against the fabric of his standard issue briefs, just one small layer of synthetic weave between Shepard's hand and his dick. 

'Never better,' Kaidan manages. 

Shepard actually laughs. It's good to hear; Kaidan can't remember the last time he heard it as anything more than a grim chuckle out of him, a curse pretending to be something else. 

It's also a distraction, because while Kaidan thinks about Shepard laughing, Shepard slides his hands past the elastic. One second later, he's holding Kaidan's dick. 

All Kaidan can think about is how rough his palms feel, calloused and scarred, just the right kind of friction he needs. 

There's not enough room on the couch to lie side by side, and that's something else Kaidan needs. He sits up until his back's to Shepard's chest and Shepard starts to stroke him, thumbing the head, his other hand still pushing Kaidan's briefs down. When Kaidan leans his head back it touches Shepard's shoulder, and Shepard kisses his neck and pulls Kaidan into his lap.

Kaidan tries to relax on him, but all it does is stiffen his joints--and his cock. Sometimes Shepard doesn't have to do anything to make Kaidan feel that way, but this certainly helps.

'I think the bed would be a bit more comfortable,' he says, although it's hard to say anything at all.

'How about my desk?' Shepard asks, lips grazing against Kaidan's cheek.

Kaidan chuckles. 'That's unprofessional.'

Shepard grunts, his other hand cupping Kaidan's balls. Kaidan leans forward and huffs, hands on his knees, one hand going to touch one of Shepard's hands. 

'I don't give a damn about what's professional at this point,' Shepard says. Kaidan has to wonder if the mood's changed. Then, Shepard grins and adds, 'But you can still call me sir.'

'Good to have your permission,' Kaidan says.

'Good to have you back,' Shepard replies. 

It goes to Kaidan's gut, kind of like lager, filling him up better than the promised steak. He closes his eyes and bites down on his lip and honestly, he'd do this here, _right_ here, on Shepard's couch instead of in Shepard's bed. Maybe they can get to that later--only _later_ doesn't count anymore. _Now_ is all they've got. 

Shepard feels it too, the weight of Kaidan's body and the weight of his dick, the weight of his balls, thumb along the vein--Kaidan swears the pulse there quickens instead of the one at his temples and wrists, the one in his chest. That's where it starts, but it runs all the way through him, like the first time he ever figured out _reave_. 

'Shit,' Kaidan says.

'Yeah,' Shepard agrees. 

They've got this moment, anyway, Shepard's lips at the base of Kaidan's neck, Shepard's hand working him up--even if there was a time Kaidan thought just looking at him would have to be enough. 

Like he needed any more complications in his life. But there Shepard was, back in it--or there Kaidan was, back in Shepard's, and neither of them willing to leave it alone, all while putting the past behind them. 

Sort of. 

Shepard's the one who stops. He nudges Kaidan gently to make him stand up, and once he's up Kaidan knows to turn around instead of going anywhere. 

The Commander's not as tall up close as he looks from far away. He still kisses with authority, but he yields when Kaidan takes control of the kiss, tilting Shepard's head. His fingers linger on Shepard's belt and Shepard starts breathing harder into his mouth, arms coming up around Kaidan's neck.

'Shit,' he says, when Kaidan undoes his belt and pops the button at the front of his pants. He pulls the fly down and slides his fingers through it, where Shepard’s already stiff against his knuckles.

Kaidan hasn't asked how long it’s been since he was _with_ somebody, but Shepard's body is answer enough, and it’s not like Kaidan's body isn't reciprocating. He reaches and pulls Shepard's dick out from the leg of his briefs, and when his other hand goes to pull Shepard's pants lower, one of Shepard's hands joins his, palm over knuckles, pushing them down too. He kicks them off and steps over them, walking Kaidan forward until the backs of his knees hit the couch. 

Kaidan grins and pulls him down, Shepard straddling _his_ legs this time around. Even his briefs are N7, Kaidan notices, and wishes he knew that before. Whatever it is, whatever it means about the guy beneath. 

Shepard squeezes the arm around Kaidan's neck and kisses him again. This time, he takes both their cocks in his hand. It's sticky and hot and the calluses feel _great_ on the head of Kaidan's dick, and Kaidan can hardly keep in his groans. 

'The couch?' he manages to get out. ' _Really_ , Shepard?'

He hopes it doesn't sound like complaining, just wondering how they got here--and how much farther they'll get. 

They're a little old for this, which is why it feels even better they're just not acting like it. Less achey. _Young_. That, and the fish aren't facing the right way, watching them from the tank with bubbles rising up to the surface of the water. 

Shepard can't keep his groans in either, mixing with a chuckle he doesn't bother holding back, shaking his head without even breaking the kiss. Kaidan touches him, throat to shoulders, following his pulse down over flexing muscle, until his fingers are digging deep in Shepard's sides, then lower. Elastic snaps, synthetic fiber smooth beneath Kaidan's fingertips while he finally goes for it--grabbing Shepard's ass. 

Nobody'll ever know this--that Shepard _likes_ it, mouth open, brow sweating, a rough stroke along their dicks with his shuddering thumb that makes both of them curse, staccato, like gunfire. 

They're doing this. 

They're really doing this. 

Kaidan's questioned a lot the past three years--Shepard's motives, his own choices, everything in between. Now all that's left is skin, chests rising and falling, the shock of heat that comes with gravity, whatever's spiraling out of control and whatever he's still clinging to. Kaidan grips Shepard's thighs and spreads them from the back and Shepard doesn't say anything, breathing hard into Kaidan's mouth. 

_Me too_ , Kaidan thinks. He closes his eyes, pushing his face hard into Shepard's face, pushing his dick hard into Shepard's hand. 

His fingers trail in between Shepard’s legs, the tips grazing the backs of his balls, and that's when he feels the shiver run all through Shepard’s shoulders and arms, even through his hands. 

'Are you cold?' Kaidan asks. He knows Shepard feels his grin against his cheek.

'Bit chilly.’ Shepard’s voice is low, his other palm sweaty on Kaidan's chest.

Kaidan doesn't say something like _I'll warm you up, Shepard,_ but he does slide his hands up and down, in and out from under his briefs, the elastic band snapping when he tugs them. They go about a quarter way down Shepard's thighs but not any more than that, because Shepard’s thighs are spread out around Kaidan's lap. 

' _Okay_ ,' Shepard says, decisive. 'There isn't enough room here.'

He gets up and takes Kaidan up with him, his hand on their cocks and Kaidan's hands lifting to touch him around the waist, all the way to the front where there’s hair at his navel and his dick, getting thicker on its way down. The head of his cock brushes against Kaidan's thumb, and it comes away slick. 

He's a good size, Kaidan thinks. There were rumors about that, too. 

He thinks about putting it in his mouth, how much he could get in, his lips stretched around the shaft. It was never an appropriate thing to think about regarding his commander, but Shepard can’t be too far off from thinking the same thing, because he kneels when they get to the couch. Before Kaidan can prepare himself Shepard’s mouth is kissing the head and somehow Kaidan knows he's waiting for direction. 

Like Kaidan's ever been the one calling the shots. 

Here's the thing: he really hasn't. 

He knows what it means to rise in the ranks--and to rise every morning, too, pulling himself out of bed and scrubbing his face with his hands and dealing with his dick, with his dreams, under the cold spray of the shower. But he doesn't have any delusions about who he is and what he's meant for, the kind of guy people say good things about and promote a few times, if only up until a certain point. 

Shepard's the one who--

Shepard's the one. Kaidan can probably stop there. He doesn't have to keep thinking but he _does_ have to keep going, thumbing that scar that cuts across Shepard's head and through his hair, shorter than regulation short, the buzz textured like stubble. Kaidan wants to kiss it, too, to rub his lips all over it until they burn, but he can only do so much, and right now Shepard's all the way down there while Kaidan's all the way up somewhere else, pulse as fuzzy as Shepard's unshaved jaw. 

Kaidan touches it instead, his fingers the substitute for his mouth, their bodies a substitute for being drunk. When he swallows it feels like a long time since he had that drink. 

'Hey, it's you,' he says. Which means _Whatever it is, it's gonna be right._ 'Shepard, just--'

Shepard gets it. He's a man of action, after all. He slides his mouth down over the head without waiting this time--because they've waited long enough--and there's some teeth in there, too. Mostly it's what Kaidan knows meeting what he feels, Shepard's tongue on the underside of his dick, palms cupping the skin at the back of Kaidan's balls. 

Kaidan lifts his hips, feeling the pressure focused at the small of his back. It aches there, something that wasn't always so sensitive, even with all the moving around they do. Hell, it's probably _because_ of all the moving around they do. The lines under his eyes are deeper, but he's as steady with a gun as he always was--maybe even better. 

Shepard moves his mouth over the head, tongue twisting to lick the slit. He's stroking Kaidan while he does it, following his fist with his mouth, and Kaidan groans. Shepard groans back, deeper and throatier, his voice vibrating all the way up into the skin and blood and muscle. Kaidan's the one who shivers this time. 

He puts a hand on the back of Shepard's head and Shepard takes to it, his eyes closed when Kaidan opens his to look at him. He looks good down there, even if it makes Kaidan's dick twitch to think it, the bridge of Shepard's nose and his brow so proud and distinct. 

When he pulls back it's not because he wants to stop but because he wants to take a breath; he starts right back up again after, with more energy this time, until his other hand lightly squeezes Kaidan's balls and Kaidan chokes on a sound that's basically a shout at this point, so much louder than it should be. 

'Shepard,' he says. _Shepard_ , he thinks, and they're both so strong in his mind and in his ears that they ring until he realizes he's pushing Shepard's face into his crotch.

Shepard doesn't complain. He doesn't even grunt. He takes it the way he takes everything: shoulders braced and ready for impact, ready to tuck and roll, facing it down. 

In this case--literally, _face down_. 

Kaidan doesn't want to be like that, another task, another burden, another bargain Shepard makes in order to get the job done. He knows it isn't that, but somewhere between his skull and his chest there's a broken wire or two, communications that flare with static, a message that doesn't come through. And it changes the tides; it changes _everything_. 

Kaidan doesn't want to stop, either. More's the only option when you've only started to have something this close to enough. Only there's nothing to grip other than Shepard's scalp, which Kaidan tries not to scrape too hard with his nails. At least they're blunt--just like Shepard can be on a bad day, when he's tired of playing nice and Kaidan can see it in the grit of his jaw. 

He loosens up, as much as he can. Some people--Shepard mostly; Kaidan's never met anyone else like him--ask more of themselves than they can give. It's like they don't know how to live unless they're always pushing. But Kaidan recognizes his limits, almost as well as he recognizes Shepard's. 

If Shepard even _has_ them.

It's easier to see where they are when the only thing between them is Kaidan's dick, right up against Shepard's chin and mouth, his hot breath all over the thin skin and the dark vein. Kaidan gentles, full of this feeling that doesn't _have_ to make it to his head, all white noise roaring in his chest. _Shepard_. It's the same name as before, but Kaidan doesn't have to say it this time. 

Shepard doesn't have to say Kaidan’s name, either. He doesn't have to say anything, and he certainly doesn't have to suck Kaidan's dick, but he does a good job of convincing Kaidan he wants to do that, maybe do both things. Like he takes to it just like the way he leans in when Kaidan holds his head or squeezes his ass. 

Shepard's hands come up around Kaidan's thighs to _his_ ass and squeeze, too, and that's when Kaidan finally sits down on the bed.

He pulls Shepard on top of him and there's _nothing_ between them now, nothing but the hair on their navels and the skin on their bodies, feeling warm and good all over. 

'Come on, Kaidan,' Shepard says--and, like Kaidan once dreamed about, 'give it to me.' 

Kaidan can only chuckle, once, almost in disbelief, like Shepard hasn't made it clear that he wants this just as badly, just as much. 

It's just been so long that Kaidan thought it would never really happen. 

There's no more time to weigh the pros and cons for going with it, for asking Commander Shepard, who hasn't been with _anyone_ since Kaidan's met him, out on a date. There's no more time to worry about the risks or even the humiliation. Kaidan remembers the sweating palms, his heart hammering in his chest. 

But Shepard already sounded like he knew. 

'Okay,' he says, because he doesn't want to say _Yes, sir_. He takes a deep breath. 'Okay.'

'Okay?' Shepard cocks an eyebrow in that perfect way, a smile pursing his lips. 

'It's _your_ room,' Kaidan reminds him. Shepard laughs, crawling off of him to sit up and look in his drawers. Kaidan puts his arms behind his head and looks out the window. 

It feels peaceful. It feels right. 

But he also can't _believe_ he's staring at the stars instead of Shepard's body as it moves, as Shepard moves, the constellations formed by freckles on his shoulders and the small of his back, and especially in the dimple of muscle above his ass. Kaidan shifts, chin against his shoulder, just watching, making sure to focus on the right things this time. And Shepard balances on his toes and his knees on the bed, kneeling there and messing around--moving fast but not as fast as when somebody on the field needs a medigel, when a friend's caught in a sniper's sight and Shepard vaults it, taking the enemy target down. 

That's okay. Kaidan never thought it'd be anything different. He never thought it'd be _this_ \--and when Shepard leans back, lube in hand, Kaidan has to bite his lip to keep from asking who gave that to him, who suggested it. 

Mordin? Dr. Chakwas? Or does Shepard have that stuff lying around _just in case_ , because he likes to be prepared?

Kaidan's head hurts. There are too many possibilities; there's too much to learn. As much as he knows already, the familiarity of it all, there's still the part when Shepard's knees bump his thigh, when Shepard's cock bobs as he moves forward and his calves tense as he comes to a full stop. 

'What is it?' Kaidan asks. 

'Nothing,' Shepard says. 'I mean it. Really.' He's laughing at himself, Kaidan realizes. 'I was just about to ask if this was moving too fast, Kaidan.'

'That _is_ funny, Shepard,' Kaidan says, on the edge of a breathless laugh. 

'I know.' Shepard holds the lube in one hand, his other empty. He stares down at both of them for a long moment, then back at Kaidan again, and Kaidan knows it's something he got based on somebody else's advice. He knows that it wasn't waiting around--like Shepard's been waiting around, for example. 'Shit.' 

'Okay,' Kaidan says, when what he means is _it's okay_.

Shepard gets it. 

He hands it to Kaidan, not like he's surrendering it but like he's trusting him with it, like all trust is is passing a small tube into Kaidan’s hand.

Shepard kisses him when he does that, but it's just a quick peck before he leans back to watch. Kaidan feels lucky to be alive. 

In a way, it’s luck he's still alive in the first place--luck and something else, something like Shepard's arms under his arms as he carried him somewhere safe. 

Kaidan swallows. This feels safest of all, right now, _right now_ , while Shepard waits and watches-- _again_.

There's been too much waiting and too much watching. Kaidan sits up and puts his hands on Shepard's shoulders to push him down, getting on top to kiss his mouth, then his neck, then the spot under his neck. He bites the skin there until Shepard starts shifting under him, his hands coming up to hold Kaidan's waist and then lower down his ass, squeezing it. 

This time Kaidan tells him to _roll over_ , kissing the back of Shepard's neck when he does. It's stubbly and there's the finest sheen of sweat on the skin, this spot where it's red and rougher than the rest, where even the finest armor chafes at the collar. 

'Yes, sir,' Shepard says, but he says it so quietly that it sounds like he's saying it to himself. It catches Kaidan off guard, in a way that makes his stomach kick into his chest, in a way that makes him push his face into the curve where Shepard's shoulder meets his neck and his body meets the bed. He moves his legs over Shepard's legs and his cock brushes against the crease between Shepard's ass, and they both tense up without meaning to.

_Okay_ , Kaidan thinks. 'Okay,' Kaidan says. 

It's part of this plan he set in motion ever since Mars, ever since _before_ Mars, for being more honest with himself and more honest with other people, with Shepard especially. They don't have the time to say anything other than what they mean, or ask for anything other than what they want. 

'Okay,' Shepard says. Same as passing a bottle of lube back and forth, Kaidan accepts it, kissing him where he's freckled most but especially on the skin between freckles. 

No armor. No pretenses. No waiting anymore. Kaidan's breath gets caught on Shepard's body, which is warm, but somehow they're both shivering. The lube isn't cold _or_ warm; it is what it is, on Kaidan's fingers when he pulls back, when he strokes and spreads it over his dick, when he stops right there between Shepard's legs and thinks, this is it. 

No time to say anything other than what they mean, or do anything other than what they want. 

Shepard's quiet, braced in place, the muscles in his ass tight. But he rolled over and that has to mean something, his face pushed down into the square white pillow that hasn't even been shoved off-kilter yet. 

Soon, though. Definitely soon. Now's _their_ moment. 

Kaidan gets some on him. He spills some, too. He can see where Shepard's skin twitches and jumps and he wipes it clean from those dimples with his thumb, a mumbled _sorry_ that means everything. 

Shepard turns his face to the side, looking up at Kaidan. Then he lifts his ass into the air, leaning back on his ankles. This way, Kaidan sees everything--and it's how he feels everything, too, fingers stroking the outside before slipping one in.

'Shit,' Kaidan says.

'I hope not,' Shepard replies, and it's so ridiculous that Kaidan laughs, a real laugh, louder and longer than it has any right to be.

'I try to stay away from that kind of talk in bed,' he tells him, leaning over again to kiss his neck and bite it, wet and hungry, the taste of Shepard's skin so good on his tongue. 

Shepard squirms under him, pushing Kaidan's finger deeper in. 

'You're so tight,' Kaidan says, his voice catching on the last word. He clears his throat and Shepard reaches back to take his other hand and move it under his belly and lower still, until Kaidan's holding onto his dick, which feels hot and smooth and hard as all hell, the tip leaking into his fingers. 

This isn't going to be easy, with Shepard so tight right now, with Shepard under him. 

Kaidan wants to make him come.

So he tells him to _roll over_ , just once more. Shepard does so gladly, spreading his legs out on the bed. Kaidan leans in between them, kissing Shepard's stomach before burying his lips in the hair over his cock. He still has a finger in Shepard, and when he goes down to lick a thick, rough stripe over the underside of his dick, he adds another one. 

'God,' Shepard says. 

It's all Kaidan can do to keep going, but he does--if only because there's no human way to stop.

They aren't man-made, after all. They're just men, even if they have been touched up along the way. Maybe there are some questions about how much they've got in them, how much they can take, and how strong they are--but they're all gut and instinct in the end, wanting something so bad it actually hurts. 

_People_ do that. They contradict themselves all the time, especially when they’re together, asking, _begging_ , for something they've already got. And once they have what they've been looking for, they _still_ want it just as badly--like having it doesn't make a difference. 

Like it's always, _always_ been about the want. 

Sweat beads on Kaidan's temples. Of all the things to be better at than Commander Shepard--to know more about, to be more comfortable with doing--this isn't such a bad place to start. 

Shepard likes it; the dick right up against Kaidan's mouth wouldn't lie about that. The knot that's in Kaidan's stomach turns into something liquid, a wave and a frequency at the same time. Excitement, pleasure. Anticipation. A thrill that says only Kaidan can do this and nobody else--none of the people who stuck with Shepard through all the rough times, who trusted him more than Kaidan could for a while, who _didn't_ almost completely mess everything up. They aren't here. They don't know what Shepard tastes like, how hot he gets. It's just the two of them, a couple of eels in the tank, the aquarium VI, Kaidan's fingers and Shepard outright groaning, loving every second of it, making Kaidan so damn hard. 

' _Kaidan_ ,' Shepard says this time. Kaidan just wants to hear it again, lips parted, breath coming in too quick, crushed in his lungs before it can find a way out. 

But he's good at this, keeping his head in a tight spot. Before the headaches kick in, anyway, everything's clear: what's happening now, and especially what comes next. 

He covers the head of Shepard's cock with his lips, with his tongue, pulling off and licking up the sides. When he mouths at Shepard's balls, Shepard's hand grips his hair.

_Fair's fair_ , Kaidan thinks, and the pressure of it feels good. Laying his head on Shepard's thigh, that junction where leg meets pelvic bone, where the skin is surprisingly soft--it feels good. 

Once upon a time Kaidan had a fantasy about Shepard, back when Shepard was so focused that even asari strippers never held his attention for long. The fantasy went something like this, but not at all like this at the same time. Hell, if Kaidan had his way, he would have been saving _Shepard's_ ass on Mars, not the other way around. 

But it was like this because he's holding Shepard at last, stroking the ridges over his body with one hand, working his fingers inside him with the other.

' _Shit_ ,' Shepard gasps, 'how'd you do that?'

Kaidan chuckles against his skin, sucking around the base of his dick, his fingers twisting deeper. They hit a certain spot and Shepard grunts again, his hips lifting for a second. His dick flexes against Kaidan's mouth, twitching whenever Kaidan rubs it, and Kaidan hasn't stopped since he started.

It doesn't take long this way for Shepard to pull at his hair even harder, his dick grinding into Kaidan's face.

'I'm going to come,' he says, and groans, and Kaidan wants a recording of that expression, that voice, just to keep with him, just to remind himself this is real. 

Maybe they can watch it later. Like one of Shepard's old vids, both of them sitting together on the couch and bumping shoulders. They'll be sharing some Canadian lager, Kaidan starting to chuckle, Shepard following suit, until their foreheads bump and suddenly they're kissing. 

Yeah. 

It'll be just like that. 

Kaidan doesn't have time to pull away, to pull back. But even if he did, he wouldn't want to. 

The muscles at Shepard's belly clench; so do the muscles of his ass. Kaidan knows only a second before it happens that it's happening--and when it does, it's messy, exactly what he always wanted, younger than they have any right to be. Shepard's hands grip Kaidan's hair, jerking his head--maybe trying to pull him away, maybe trying to push him closer--but it's impossible to tell with a guy like Shepard, even if you have all the time in the world. 

Then, it's Shepard's turn to say he's sorry, _sorry, Kaidan_ , two of Kaidan's fingers still in his ass and Kaidan's dick still hard between his legs. Kaidan tries to say it's okay, that night's refrain apparently; he tries to be the reassuring guy Shepard needs right now, somebody to love and somebody to trust, but unfortunately his mouth's a little full, a little busy with some other things. 

It doesn't come out the right way. 

That's okay, too; Shepard strokes his rough hand over the back of Kaidan's head while Kaidan reaches down to touch himself. They don't have all the time they need, but _that's okay, that's okay_ , Kaidan thinks. 

Shepard keeps running his fingers through his hair, even when his cock slips out of Kaidan's mouth to rest on his thigh, already softening.

'Come here,' Shepard says. 

Kaidan puts his head on Shepard’s stomach, close to his heartbeat. Shepard's breathing deeply like he's just run from cover to cover or across the field, all that heaving invisible under his heavy armor. 

Shepard's knee feels really good on his cock right now, his legs hairy and strong and touching Kaidan's legs, which is the most important part. Kaidan rubs against it and strokes his dick, leaning up to kiss Shepard. Shepard grabs his face with one hand and the back of his head with another and kisses him the hardest he's ever kissed him--which, to be fair, has only been today. Kaidan closes his eyes and Shepard bites his lower lip, sucking it in, the stubble on his chin brushing Kaidan's chin. His breath is hot on Kaidan's face.

Kaidan tries to kiss him back the best he can, giving everything he has while still touching himself. He wants to make sure Shepard knows he's here and here to stay, and he'd be damned if he could find someone as willing, someone who wants him this bad. 

After all, they've been through a lot, from Eden Prime to Virmire--Ashley—and from Horizon to Mars. From being lucky enough to brush hands with Shepard to having Shepard's cock in his mouth--Shepard's come in his mouth. 

It all makes Kaidan feel that rising swell, that tightening in his stomach and his groin. It's not just Shepard's body and his face, as nice to look at as they both are. It's not just his voice, so deadpan but tongue in cheek when he wants to be, tongue in Kaidan’s mouth when he wants it to be. It's everything, _everything_ , the concept of brothers in arms and the concept of lovers, what Shepard pretends to be and what he actually is, and some of the things he isn’t, too.

Kaidan moves away and bites one of Shepard's nipples when he comes into his fist and all over Shepard's leg, Shepard's thumb tickling the short hairs at the back of Kaidan's neck. 

He's had a lot more than he's bargained for in his time, breathing hard, head bent but his back still straight. He tries to catch up with it all until he realizes he's the one pulling Shepard into his arms, not the other way around, folding both of them in together on Shepard's bed.

It isn't as hard as it looks. There's even something soft about it and at least there's something warm. 

'Tell me something, Kaidan,' Shepard says, quieter than he usually gets. His voice is tired, but not the worn out sort of tired that makes the lines stand to attention around his mouth and around his eyes, the beaten-down sort of tired that makes his jaws and his fists tight. 

'Anything,' Kaidan says. 

He knows how it sounds. He also knows he's past the point of playing hard to get. He _also_ knows that he means it, and he'll spend whatever time they have left proving it to Shepard--until Shepard knows; until they can both really believe it. Kaidan's arms come up around Shepard's waist, one of them crushed under his side against the mattress. 

Maybe it's just as hard is it looks, just as easy as it is, just as comfortable as it needs to be. 

'Was it the lager or the steak sandwich that did it?' Shepard asks. 

And Kaidan says _It was you_ but not out loud, against the back of Shepard's neck, before they both roll over--together--and finally fall asleep. 

**END**


End file.
